I want to believe.

I received a comment, saying that I had found my voice. It made me wonder, because I don't feel it. My voice to me feels meek, and like that of a child pouting because the world has not been kind, or fair.

I want to understand

I want to believe. The poster behind the FBI agent, that's what it said. I want to believe. That's what keeps popping into my head tonight. That is what is causing the blood vessels to restrict, and force painful throbbing sensations around my temples.

I want to believe

How can I just sit here, and do nothing, when every fiber in body, my soul, they all tell me to light up this torch, and just burn, set everything ablaze until I take what is mine. All my roads have ended before I realized it. Love has been snatched from my fingers before I even knew what it truly was.

I am intense

Before I knew what it truly was, this will explain a lot. This is where I need to go to find my answer. I'll go back to the fall of 1995, when just the summer before I had heard for the first time that she did love me, that she had always loved me. Those beautiful words escaping from her perfect lips for the first time. This was the party, the night we kissed each other for the first time. The night we made love under an ocean of summer stars, on the wet grass.

It happened because I wasn't there

How can I honestly sit here, and tell my self she died in that wreck because of me. Because she told me that she loved me and I wasn't there. Because of what she had told me, and then let me twist for her attention. Why did she say those things to me? And then disappear? Leaving me to that dreadful afternoon in the fall, when 5 or 6 of my friends showed up at my door. This could explain my reactions and my lack of patience and my constant need for reassurance.

I'm sorry she's gone, she's dead

I dropped to my knees, I was never so angry and hurt then I was then. She was stolen from me, because someone couldn't find a cassette tape on his passenger seat. Because it was dark, and the street was narrow. Who would survive a crash at that speed head on? The guy looking for a tape did.

They couldn't hide the bruises

The last I saw of her, will forever be burned on my memory. Each cut, and scrap on her face an arms, the bruises that covered most of her body that they tried hard to cover up with make up. They should have closed the casket, I wished now that I my legs would have failed me that I wouldn't have had the strength as a 19 year old man to see her like that. She was my one true love, gone forever, taken from me with out warning.

maybe now?

So maybe now I can finally find that feeling again, the one that was ripped from me. Maybe now I can find that patience that most people have, that practical side that makes you think, that makes you wait. I lost that also. I think about it, and I will never again be practical. I will always rush in, I will always need reassurance, and I will always need my anger comforted.

"People say, 'time heals.' Yet time by itself doesn't heal. If a person in grief sits in a corner waiting for time to take care of bitter sorrow, time won't do anything. It is what we do with time that can heal." ~Reverend Arnoldo Pangrazzi

I don't know if one ever completely heals from loss, and to assume healing will happen is awfully dangerous. We keep loss with us, and it's what we do with it that either destroys us or makes us stronger.

There is an ache in my heart for you right now and a tear still falling down my cheek...

I know the strenth and courage it took for you to share your story and your more importantly your grief, sorrow and vulnerablilty with us. Maybe this is the beginning for you, a chance to start anew...

Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak Whispers the o'er-fraught heartand bids it break.

– William Shakespeare, in Macbeth, Act IV, Scene III

She will forever be a part of you and will remain in your heart forever. Spend sometime today celebrating the joy your had with her and the love you shared. Rejoice in the deep love you shared for not everyone finds their one true love...

We walked the narrow path,beneath the smoking skies.Sometimes you can barely tell the differencebetween darkness and light.Do you have faithin what we belive?The truest test is when we cannot,when we cannot see.

I just want to hug you and wipe your tears of pain away...expressing yourself in this way just helps you heal somewhat...but I know your heart will always ache. That's what makes you who you are today, and from what I can tell that's a good thing.Hang in there, you have lots of people who care~sweet~

Oh WHATEVER BITCHES!

Kaliedascope61 replies on 3/27/2006 1:20 am: ahhh, don't worry about me, I'm not broken, I don't need to be fixed. I may constently hurt, but I am not broken. I'll take the hug anyway

I lost a very good friend the summer after high school. While we were not boyfriend and girlfriend we had slept together many times. My first friend with benifits, but mostly my dear friend. I loved him deeply. I got caught up in my life after high school and didn't keep in touch with him like I should. He got caught up in *things* and was beaten to death. I will never shake the feeling that if I had been a better friend I might could have helped him stay away from that trouble. Sometimes there is more than one shadow following us.

Kaliedascope61 replies on 3/27/2006 1:21 am: do you ever get the feeling that, that friend watches you sometimes? I get that feeling all the time, like I can feel her in the room with me.

Its hard to have love snatched from you in such a cruel way...the pain in your gut never quite diminishes...it fades with time but never really goes away...you carry a sense of the person with you forever...the sense of what might have been...your hopes and dreams remain frozen in that moment...never dying or moving forward....and your need to be there again...to feel like that once more can sometimes bring you to your knees....

What can I say that hasn't been said? If you must grieve, then grieve. Move on my friend. Nothing can change what has happened. You only hurt yourself in reliving this tragedy. I don't mean to sound cold hearted, but life is for the living. By living yours, you are not showing disrespect, nor lack of love and caring for her. Rejoice in the blessing that is your life, and don't let the past drag you down.

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